The Bad Touch
by BeyondTheClouds
Summary: -::Bad Freinds Trio FLUFF. No pairings. AU, Real names used.::- It was ironic how everyone else saw the disaster in their friendship, but they only saw it as a way to pass the time. From their child years to college, there'll always be a Bad Friends Trio.


**I know I have other fics to update, but I'm going to try and do start this one. Kay? I don't own Hetalia, BTW.**

**Reviews are very much appreciated, and flames just hurt my feelings. :P**

**I highly suggest listening the song "The Bad Touch". Tee-hee. :)**

**...**

**The Bad Touch**

It was a sunny day, as to be expected in Arizona, and the elicit children of Heta Elementary made their way by age group to the cafeteria line.

"Aww, man, I have to stand by you weirdo's again?" The albino child of Mr. Braginski's second grade class whined, obviously displeased with the situation at hand.

"Oh yeah, like I'd want to stand by you two ugly losers until we eat lunch, Monsieur Gilbert." Francis sneered back, waving his hand off to the side and shifting his weight on one foot.

"Well, I don't understand what the big problem is, considering we always have to line up alphabetically, you know." Antonio sighed from behind Francis, before glancing at the whiteboard on the wall that showed the lunch's menu, his already good mood increasing when he saw that they were serving burritos.

"Yeah, but I hardly see why. I should be at the front of the line because, as you know, I am the awesomest one in school!" Gilbert laughed.

"What? It's the second day of school! How can you say you are the best when you have only been here but one full day?" Francis pouted, shoving the albino in front of him.

"Hey don't push me!"

"You don't push me, bossy-pants!"

"You guy's, I want to get food! I'm hungry, plus their serving burritos! Stop fighting!"

"I'll stop fighting as soon as the ugly lady does!"

"Well, your dealing with a former French-royal!"

"Your a seven-year-old boy who probably doesn't even speak French!"

"That is _enough_!" A voice shouted from behind the two. The trio turned, Francis's small fist stopping as he pulled it back, Gilbert looking up from his awkward position of biting Francis's free hand, and Antonio holding a look of dread as he ceased trying to pry the two apart, staring at the principle and teacher.

"I'm terribly sorry for this having to happen so early in the school year..." Mr. Braginski trailed off in his Russian accent, not sounding sorry at all. The principle fixed her glare at them, and walked forward in her red high-heels; probably an attempt to make her look taller, which in itself was a futile effort.

As she walked, Francis spared a glance down, then two, then three, and he screamed, thrashing his arm around that still had the German's jaws locked on. "Eww! No way, he bit me! That is absolutely revolting! He bit me, he bit me!"

In an attempt to throw the young albino off of him, Francis succeded in hitting Antonio square in the face, knocking the young Spaniard over. Antonio furiously wiped the tears from his eyes, but once he pulled his arms away to see he had blood on them, he touched his nose, before letting out a wail.

The cafeteria, only filled with young first graders, turned and stared at the scene. Francis was still trying to get the German off him, and succeded in doing so, only to have Gilbert stumble backwards and knock down the furious principle.

As soon as the two hit the ground, laughter erupted from the whole building, and Gilbert could've sworn he saw their teacher crack a smile. Trying not to look flustered at falling down, he stood up and walked next to Francis.

"Hahahah, it was just as we planned, wasn't it?" He laughed, crossing his arms about his chest. Francis opened his mouth to retort, before he saw the Spanish boy on the floor in a mess.

"Oh no! Gilbert, this is all your fault! You hurt Antonio, the poor little thing. He didn't mean to do anything, he is a good kid and you had to corrupt him!" Francis shouted, trying to lift Antonio to his feet by one arm. Gilbert, instantly on the defensive, was at Antonio's other side, heaving the brunet up.

"My fault? Your the one who had to go and throw punches at everyone and hurt him! It's your fault!"

By this time, Antonio was on his feet, and his crying was down to soft sniffles, red eyes, and a throbbing nose. The infuriated and embarassed principle was to at her feet with the help of their teacher, and grabbed as many of the boys' hands as she could.

"We're going to my office! Now!"

The trio followed helplessly after.

"...And so, as punishment for injuring yourselves and making a mockery of me in front of the students, you'll have to wash all the desks in the art room. I heard they were painting today." The blonde principle concluded, a small smile on her face.

Gilbert huffed, crossed his arms, and turned the other way, Francis nodded slightly, but otherwise stayed indifferent, and Antonio was the only one who graced her with a "Yes, ma'am.", his nose now banadaged up.

"Good, your free to leave and start your work." She waved her hand.

"But what about school, there's still an hour left." Gilbert sneered.

"I've already informed your teacher about it. He said it was alright with him. Now, please leave."

And so they were gone.

Walking through the outdoor hallway's, Gilbert walked proudly with his hands behind his head. "Alright, now we gotta clean a buncha desks. They can't do this to us, we're only kids!" Francis walked with his hands in his pockets, nodding in agreement.

Antonio was the one who lagged behind, occasionally sniffling like he was before.

"Huh? What's the matter with you, macho taco?" Gilbert asked, halting his steps.

Antonio looked up, his green eyes widening. "Are you talknig to me?"

"Well, who else would I be talking to?"

"Oh, well, um... Nothing." Antonio sighed.

"Well, alright then. You guy's seem pretty cool, and I bet your dying to hang out with me so I guess I'll let you guy's hang out with me and my awesomness." Gilbert laughed.

"What? And why would we want to hang out with you?" Francis asked, frowning.

"Duh, 'cause I'm awesome."

"W-Well I don't mind..."

Gilbert and Francis turned to stare at Antonio, who shuffled his feet nervously as he watched the two in front of him. "I-I mean if that's alright with you-"

"Do you have a self-confidence issue or somethin'? You remind me of that one guy a grade down from us, Matthew." Gilbert nodded his head, as if remembering something.

"No!" Antonio fired back, surprising Gilbert and Francis. "It's just that the kids at my old school never liked to hang out with me."

"Ohhhh, your new here? Well, I don't care, just don't act all baby-ish. I don't take anything from no one, so we might get into a fight sometime." Gilbert sighed, but upon seeing Antonio's dissaproving look, he added on a: "What? Your a pacifin or something?"

"Pacifin? Don't you mean pacifist?" Francis laughed, causing Gilbert's cheeks to turn red. Antonio shook his head.

"My parents'll get mad if I get in trouble at school."

"Well, then we just won't tell them. So it's you and me, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo."

Antonio flashed him a grin, shining with confidence and intuition at the mention of his full name.

"Look at you! So I guess you do have some confidence. What about you, Francey-pants. You in?"

Francis shrugged. "I guess. What's the harm?"

"Awesome!" Gilbert spit on his hand, and held it out in front of the two. "Come on, spit and put your hand in the ring if your in."

Antonio wrinkled his nose in disgust, but when he saw Fancis do it, he did also.

"Okay dudes, here're the rules. Never rat out on another, always be there when your needed, and remember that we'll be best friend's until we die. Okay?" Gilbert smiled, and though the other two were a bit troubled by the "until they die" part, they nodded. "On three!"

"One!"

"Two!"

"Three!"

The trio laughed heartily, throwing their hands in the air as they made their way to the art room.

**...**

**So, whaddya think? Oh, and in case you might've not known:**

**Antonio- Spain. Gilbert- Prussia. Francis- France. Mr. Braginaki- Russia.**


End file.
